


Bumbleby Week 2020

by Jakobre_the_Writer



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakobre_the_Writer/pseuds/Jakobre_the_Writer
Summary: First ever Bumbleby week!A whole week dedicated to everyone's favorite bees.Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 35
Kudos: 119





	1. Day One-Blakes' Ring/Sunflower Bottle Cap

**Author's Note:**

> All of these were done pretty quick and don't have the same level of polish that I like, but I'm still happy with them.

“Put me down!” Blake shrieked with laughter as Yang twirled them around the dancefloor. She had to admit, coming out with team FNKI hadn’t been her ideal way of spending an evening, but Yang had been so excited and just so happy to get an evening to relax and have some fun that she couldn’t say no. So, here they were dancing like fools in the middle of a packed club. Well, Blake was dancing like a fool anyway, Yang was light and graceful on her feet, so much so that was almost shocking. For someone who was strong enough to punch a mech to pieces, she could move with a delicacy that even Weiss would have been jealous of. 

As Yang brought her back to the floor, Blake wrapped her arms around Yang’s shoulders. It was intended to keep her steady while she got her footing, but she could feel Yang’s breath hitch and she pulled them closer instinctually. Blake looked down, studying Yang’s boots to hide the fact that she was biting her lip. Gods, it felt so right to be this close to Yang. They fit together so nicely, like they were custom made for one another by a master craftsman, but Blake knew better than to pursue those feelings. Right now they were caught in the middle of a conflict so massive it dwarfed anything Blake could have ever imagined.

After all that was done, once Salem was defeated and the world was at peace, then Blake would allow herself to fall completely for Yang. Right now it was too dangerous to let herself become that vulnerable, even around her best friend. 

Yang led the way back to their table, finding that FNKI was still busy on the dancefloor or schmoozing with the locals. Both of them were breathing heavily as they settled into their chairs, leaning on one another for support to keep from falling over. After a long moment, in which Blake fought to keep herself from collapsing entirely, Yang asked, “You wanna head back to the dorm?” Rather, asked was the wrong word, more like shouted, and even then Blake barely heard her over the thumping music. 

“Yes! Please!” Blake shouted back, already pulling out her scroll to send Flynt a message. He would complain and tease them for heading to bed so early, if near midnight was early, but Blake was at her limit for clubs for one night. 

The two stood and made their way to the door, pushing through other patrons politely and stumbling out into the chill air of Solitas. As they walked back towards the dorm, Blake found herself huddling next to Yang to keep the cold at bay. Her partner was a burning fire in the night, and Blake needed that warmth right now. Even with her Aura she could feel the chill biting into her fingers and piercing her jacket. Yang helped keep the frigid air at bay, seemingly unaffected by it. 

“That was fun,” Yang said cheerfully as they walked, “You had fun, right?” 

“Of course I did,” Blake said, using a laugh to cut herself off. She wanted to add that she really only had fun because she had been there with Yang, but then again she could go anywhere and have a good time as long as she was with Yang. “But thanks for getting us out of there. I’m gonna have ringing in my ears tomorrow, I just know it.”

“No problem,” Yang said with a cocky grin, “A Huntress’s work is never done, after all.” Blake laughed at that, shaking her head and leaning more into Yang. It was a mistake, mostly because the extra pressure made Yang yelp and trip forwards, stumbling a few steps before landing heavily on her knee. Blake was immediately at her side, helping her to her feet and fussing over her. Her Aura would have taken any damage, but that didn’t mean Blake couldn’t be a proper mother hen about it.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?” Blake asked, looking Yang up and down with a worried expression. Yang smirked softly, waving away Blake’s worry and absentmindedly patting her pocket.

“I’m fine, just tripped,” she said and glanced up at Blake, her eyes full of the shattered moon above, a dazzling light in eyes that Blake already found breathtaking. “But if I was hurt, I hope you wouldn’t mind being my...my…” She frowned and patted her pocket again, then shoved her hand inside. “Shit!” 

Before Blake could react, Yang hurled herself to the ground again, scrambling along the sidewalk like a madwoman. “What is it? Did you drop your scroll?” Blake asked, following her seemingly deranged partner. She looked around and waved at a handful of people who were watching with thinly veiled interest, and was grateful when Yang let out a sigh of satisfaction as she found whatever she was looking for. 

“Nah, not my scroll,” Yang said as she stood and dusted off her knees, slipping whatever it was back into her pocket. She was quick, but not fast enough for Blake to miss it entirely.

“You went diving to the sidewalk for a bottlecap?” she teased lightly and Yang’s face flushed with embarrassment. She dug the bottle cap back out and showed it to Blake, the orange and yellow color catching the lights above.

“Not just any bottle cap, Sunflower Pop. You remember, from that bar we went to back in Vale?” 

Blake furrowed her brow, even as a warm feeling flooded her body. Of course she remembered that bar, that...outing with Yang. How could she ever forget it? Moments like that, those little day trips or time spent laying in the grass around Beacon, those had been the things that got her through every day after she’d left. She treasured those moments almost more than she wanted to admit. She needed those memories like she needed to breathe. But she couldn't say all that without sounding like a fool, so instead she said, “I thought you threw your cap away?”

“I did,” Yang said with a shrug, “but I found another one. It washed up on the beach as I was driving to the port on Patch, can you believe that?”

A heavy feeling of realization hit Blake like a truck, an impossible chance filled her mind and hurled her into her next words without even a chance to consider them. “You fucking with me.”

“Not this time,” Yang said and slid the bottle cap back into her pocket. It took her a moment to realize that Blake’s breathing was getting heavier and her hands were shaking, but when she did she immediately hugged her partner, muttering, “Hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re okay, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories. Let’s get back to the dorm, okay? I’ll make you some tea.”

“Not-not bad memories,” Blake choked out, slumping into Yang’s arms, “I just...I can’t-it’s not possible!”

“What, Blake? What’s not possible?”

“I-I kept my bottle cap, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember,” Yang said softly, “I thought it was adorable.”

Blake laughed quietly at that, and Yang let out a ghost of a chuckle, before Blake continued. “After Beacon, when I was going to Menagerie, I...I threw it off the boat I was on.”

“The Pride, right?” Yang asked, with none of the judgement or coldness that Blake had expected. She nodded slowly, nuzzling into the crook of Yang’s neck.

“I think that...I mean, it’s impossible, right?” she asked and Yang hummed softly in thought, then gasped in realization.

“You think this is the same one?” she asked, pulling it back out and lifting it up to study it in the moonlight. Yang was silent for a long moment, then said, “Gods, I hope it is.”

“What?”

“I hope you’re right. Even if it’s not the same one, I’m gonna pretend that it is,” Yang said softly, wrapping Blake up in a tight hug. Blake melted into her warmth, in her embrace, and let out a contented sigh. 

“I knew you were a big softy,” she murmured and Yang laughed.

“I’m a sucker for a good romance.”

There was a moment of shocked silence, the word romance hardly being thrown around lightly between them when it wasn’t in reference to one of Blake’s favorite novels. After a while, Blake found she could speak again. “Is that what this is, Yang? Romance?”

Yang leaned back and looked down at her, eyes so full of love and caring that it swept Blake’s heart into a dervish of absolute, ludicrous joy. Blake knew the answer even before Yang said it. Yang loved her. Yang Xiao Long, the most beautiful, wonderful, caring, kind, amazing woman in the world loved  _ her _ . This had to be a dream.

“Blake...I really, really want it to-” Alarms around them started to blare, even as the rain from above turned to snow. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“A Huntress's work is never done, right?” Blake teased Yang lightly, and the blonde nodded ruefully.

“Yeah, that’s the truth. C’mon, partner. Let’s go kick some ass.”

The cold was forgotten as Blake ran after Yang, weapons at the ready, towards whatever new threat was approaching Mantle. Blake couldn’t keep herself from smiling even as the alarms continued. Yang loved her. 

After all the Grimm were defeated, they could talk about it more. Blake reached into her own pocket and gently squeezed the ring she kept there. Impossible or not, she and Yang were going to be together. She just knew it.


	2. Day Two-Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake and Yang spend a rare night of peace, swapping stories about old scars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Referenced abuse in this chapter, so be aware of that.

“So where’s this one from?” Blake asked, tracing a finger along Yang’s shoulder and the strange half moon scar that resided there. The two were laying in bed in some Vacuan shack, one of the few nights of peace they and the team had in weeks. Over the past few nights of sharing the same bed, Yang and Blake had taken to sharing stories of their various scars. It was part of being a Huntress, risking your life always left scars. After going over all the ones on their arms and legs, Yang had decided to shed her shirt entirely to allow Blake full access to the trophy rack of scars that adorned her torso and back. She had taken particular glee in hearing Blake’s subtle gasp and she watched Yang disrobe, and was now enjoying her partner’s gentle fingers along her skin.

Yang laughed as she remembered that day. “I was looking after the horses on my own for the first time. One spooked as I was leading them out of the barn and kicked me. I was, like, ten so it broke my Aura immediately, gave me that baby right there.” She reached up and traced along it, allowing her hand to grace Blake’s as she did so. “It was more of an indent than a cut. Really weird.”

Blake hummed softly as she took in that information, then slowly ran her finger down Yang’s body and across her collar bone. Yang’s breath hitched slightly as she did so, getting a small smirk in response. Oh, Yang realized, Blake knew exactly what she was doing right now. She found another scar, a trio that ran down her side. “And these?”

“Beowulf attack,” Yang said with a shrug, “I used my semblance too early and didn’t see the last one of them until it was too late. The Grimm got off a whole lot worse.”

“I bet they did,” Blake said with a small laugh.

Yang’s eyes traced down Blake’s body, searching for some new story she could drag out of her. She was in her pajamas, her normal attire hung up in the corner, and most of her scars were still hidden beneath the silky cloth. The thought made Yang’s heart drop. Blake had so many scars, with so many stories, but too many of them hurt to talk about. Her time with Adam was still too recent to talk about for long, and when they did it was only in vague terms and short, stilted conversations. Blake wanted to talk about it with Yang, she had said as much, but the words were hard to come by. Yang couldn’t blame her. She didn’t know if she would ever have had the strength to do what Blake did. 

As she came back from her reverie she saw Blake’s eyes lingering on her arm, now exposed to the world as her prosthetic rested on a nightstand near the bed. Blake’s gaze was sad and bitter, a palpable sense of regret hanging over her as her eyes traced along the scar.

“I’d do it again,” Yang said softly, and Blake’s head snapped up as though she had been caught at something. The alarm in her eyes faded as quickly as it had appeared and she nodded slowly.

“I know you would. That’s what scares me most,” she said softly, laying on her side and letting her arm drape across Yang’s waist. “I hope you never have to.”

“Me too,” Yang said, laying down next to Blake. She reached out her arm and wrapped it around Blake, and her partner snuggled closer until there was no more space between them. This, too, had become a nightly ritual. They drew comfort from one another, Yang from Blake’s steady grasp and Blake from Yang’s warmth. Yang felt her eyes drawn, as ever when they were this close, to the x-shaped scar on Blake’s hip, hidden beneath her clothes. She knew better than to ask about that one. They both knew the story already. 

“We’re gonna look after each other,” Blake whispered, nuzzling her head into Yang’s chest, “no matter what happens, right?”

“Right,” Yang choked out, the rising heat in her core and cheeks almost overwhelming. Gods, how did Blake have this effect on her? They had just been discussing horrible injuries and now Yang wanted nothing more than to just lift Blake’s chin and kiss her tenderly. It didn’t matter how much pain they had experienced, how hard and stoney they might become, Blake could always undo Yang with a single word. It was a strange, terrifying way to be and it excited Yang more than she could even begin to describe. 

Blake seemed to notice her sudden warmth and she tucked herself in closer that Yang thought possible. “I’m s-”

“It’s okay,” Yang said automatically and Blake sighed with a shake of her head.

“I know, Yang. I wasn’t gonna apologize again.”

“Oh,” Yang mumbled, the heat of her love for Blake replaced by one of embarrassment. She could feel Blake smile against her and glanced down to see those beautiful amber eyes staring back at her.

“I’m so glad to be back with you,” Blake said softly, “All of you, I mean it, but...you especially, Yang.”

“I’m glad to have you back,” Yang murmured and Blake’s smile grew.

“Thanks, sunflower,” she said and Yang gasped softly, making Blake furrow her brow. “What? What is it?”

“That’s-that's what my mom, Summer, used to call me,” Yang whispered and suddenly her courage overcame her and she leaned down, placing a small kiss on Blake’s cheek. Now it was Blake’s turn to gasp and her expression shifted into one of pure excitement and joy at the prospect of having been kissed by Yang. “It’s okay. You can call me that too,” Yang added, knowing that Blake must have been considering if she had gone too far, said something she shouldn’t have.

Blake leaned forwards and did one better to Yang, placing a soft kiss on her lips. It was a small thing, just a peck really, but it was enough to make Yang’s cheeks flush red and a dopey smile appear on her face. The sight drove Blake to laugh, doubling over and clutching her stomach. Yang curled around her protectively, holding her tight and laughing along with her at her own foolishness. Of course a kiss like that had been coming, they’d been dancing around it ever since Blake came back at Haven. 

Yes, it had been difficult and old scars had reopened with fresh pain as they reacquainted themselves with one another. But now here they were, laying in bed together in some backwater part of Vacuo, drinking one another in as the stars wheeled by overhead. 

They had so many scars, dozens between them, each with their own story and their own history. Some would be easier to talk about than others, some they might never talk about at all, but somehow that didn’t bother Yang too much. She didn’t mind showing them to Blake, didn’t mind sharing those stories. Even the wound she had poked on accident, the scar left behind when Summer died, was a story that Yang was willing to tell, in time. 

The scars were just another part of her, as much a part of who she was as her name or her fighting spirit. She was already willing to share all of that with Blake, why would the scars be any different? 

As they kissed again, slowly and tenderly, before turning off the light and settling in for sleep, Yang felt more at peace than she had in her entire life. They had plenty of scars over plenty of years, and would no doubt gain many more in the future, but the thought didn’t scare Yang as much as it had even a day prior. She and Blake were together, and that fortified her strength. As long as that was true, they could weather any storm.

Every scar was just another story to share with one another, and Yang couldn't wait to share all of those stories with Blake.


	3. Day Three-Soulmates/Reincarnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, love lasts over hundreds of liftimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of an AU this time!

“Please, I’ll do anything! Just give her back to me, please!”

The desperate cries fell on deaf ears. Blake dragged herself forward, draping her body across the still form of her lover. Their body was still warm, the wound that had claimed them still fresh.

“Please…” Blake choked out, “We were supposed to have a life together. We were supposed to grow old together, please. Let us have that! I’ll do whatever you want, just give us that!” 

The Twin Gods stared back dispassionately and Blake collapsed to the floor. She couldn’t even feel tears welling in her eyes, so hard had she cried over the past few hours. Her throat was ragged, her voice hoarse and failing even as she pleaded with the gods. 

“Everyone says you’re merciful,” Blake mumbled, the words spilling out now without clear purpose, “Everyone says that the gods reward their faithful. I have been nothing but faithful to you for my entire life! I dedicated myself to you and the only sin I ever committed was pledging my heart to someone my family didn’t choose.” She looked up at the gods, resplendent in their glorious gold and purple forms, life and death personified. “If ever I have asked something of you, I forfeit that mercy. I’ll give you everything, my life, my soul, anything you want as long as you just give Yang back to me!” The words were a scream, a desperate cry to an uncaring universe. 

There was a long silence, a silence so deep and profound that Blake found herself drowning in it. The only thing she could think, the only word she could remember as the silence consumed her thoughts was Yang. She needed her back, she needed to hear that laugh, see that smile, just one more time. The gods could punish her for eternity after that, all she needed was one more day with Yang. 

“Anything?” The God of Death said slowly, their voice sounding cold and dispassionate, sending the world around them into despair and madness.

“What you ask is impossible,” The God of Life said, their voice joyous and caring, and suddenly the world was full of life and hope. Blake wanted to scream from the confusion their voices gave her. “Your lover is dead. We cannot undo what has been done without much sacrifice to the world we have created. One life is not worth the suffering of millions.”

“Quite right, brother mine,” The God of Death said smoothly, “Go now, mortal. Live or die in whatever way you see fit.”

Blake quivered as their voices died away, her entire body shook from sorrow and confusion and then, deep within, an unspeakable rage. It was a feeling so ugly and malicious that she wanted to destroy it immediately, but the rage was faster than she had thought possible and she found herself shouting, “I will destroy you! I will rain down every agony upon your heads until you have suffered as I have! You will die, screaming and alone, begging me for the mercy you failed to show me today!”

She clasped her hands to her mouth in shock, stopping herself from speaking further but the deed was done. The air in the room went cold as the Gods leered above her. 

“Such impressive arrogance,” said The God of Death.

“How mortal of you,” said The God of Life.

“A punishment is in order, wouldn’t you say, brother mine?”

“Indeed, brother, and a fitting punishment I have.”

The God of Life reached down and gently cupped Blake’s jaw. She felt a sudden warmth fill her body at their touch. It was slow and comforting at first, then it twisted in her heart and shot through her body like a thousand piercing needles. She screamed and writhed until the iron grip of The God of Life, unable to escape as she felt her very being shift and change, twisting under the gaze of the golden god. She opened her mouth to scream wider and a golden light shot out, then her gaze was encompassed by nothing but immutable, unrelenting gold.

They let her go and she slumped to the floor. She reached out feebly to try and grab Yang’s hand as her vision returned, but her body wouldn’t respond. All she could do was listen.

“You will live on, foolish one,” said The God of Life, “You will see eons of time and lose countless loved ones. The pain you suffer today will be your very existence until you submit to our will.”

Blake let out a strangled cry as she tried to speak. The God of Death picked up the torch where their brother had left off. “Perhaps an additional layer to her punishment, brother dear?”

“What do you have in mind, brother?” Whatever was said next, Blake missed it as her vision began to fade to black. The last thing she heard before falling into unconsciousness was The God of Life saying, “A fine suggestion. See that it is done.”

Twenty years had passed since that day. Blake had woken up in an empty room, a ruined temple that so recently had been a vibrant place of worship. The Gods were gone, as was Yang’s body. That was what had hurt the most, Blake realized later, that she didn’t even get to give her love a proper burial. 

Her parents had been understanding, as best they could be. People died all the time, and losing a loved one was always difficult, but Blake felt as though her very heart had been torn from her body. 

Blake had returned to life on the family farm, working hard to try and drown out the pain. So muddled were her thoughts that she had tripped while plowing the fields. Her head struck the back of the plow, hard enough to leave her reeling from pain and to draw blood. When she reached up to feel her head, to check for a wound, there was nothing. Days later there wasn’t even a bruise. It was a miracle, her mother had said, but she refused to believe that. The Gods didn’t give out miracles. They didn’t care.

She had wallowed in pain and self loathing for years as the world around her grew and changed. It had taken her ten years to realize the punishment that had been put upon her. Her parents were aging, their hair turning gray and wrinkles appearing on their faces, Blake was not. Even now, twenty years on, she still resembled the twenty something that had ascended the steps with the body of their lover and begged for mercy from cruel Gods. And that punishment had born fruit.

A terrible disease struck their village. Her mother died in the fall, and her father followed in the spring. Blake’s sorrow had been so great that she had wandered out of town after the burial, not caring where she went or what happened to her. All around her the disease swept the world, carrying off thousands every day, but Blake couldn’t be affected. She had lain next to the body of her father for days, hoping to catch the disease and let it take her away, take her to her parents and then to Yang, but to no avail. It was obvious, she realized. Accidents and mistakes that would have left cuts and bruises left not a mark on her body, why would a disease be any different?

So she wandered for months, stumbling through towns and collapsing when her body failed to carry her any further. She starved some days, but the pain never claimed her. Blake had never yearned for death until it was denied.

A stream trickled by her head as she woke up. She had been wandering for...a month? Two months? Five years? Yes, that sounded right. The disease had faded eventually, but Blake had kept wandering, her eyes glazed and blind to the world around her. She had found this stream and knelt to take a drink, but the motion had been too close to laying down and her body had given into sleep. 

It took her a moment to realize that someone was shaking her shoulder. She groaned and rolled over, batting weakly at the arm that shook her and forcing her eyes open. As her eyes landed on who was shaking her, she froze and her breath caught in her throat. She knew those lilac eyes, that beautiful blonde hair. But it couldn’t be, that was impossible. The Gods were cruel, they would never allow it.

“Hey, you’re awake,” the woman who wasn’t Yang said, “You had me worried there for a while.” Gods, she even had Yang’s voice! What torture was this? What new punishment had Blake earned? The woman’s eyes narrowed and she smiled gently. “Do you understand me? I don’t know if you speak my language or not, I’m sorry.”

It was a different tongue than Blake had ever spoken, and far different than ones that Yang had known, but somehow Blake could understand it as though she had been speaking it her whole life. “I-I understand you,” Blake breathed out and the woman’s smile grew happily.

“Oh, good! Here,” she reached down and grabbed a small waterskin by her hip and offered it to Blake, “You should have some of this. It’s cleaner than the stream, anyway.” Blake snatched the waterskin and went to take deep gulps of water, but the woman reached out with a steady hand. “Slowly,” she instructed gently, “If you drink too quickly, you could die.”

No, she couldn’t, Blake thought bitterly, but she agreed to the woman’s request. The woman who wasn’t Yang let out a sigh of relief as she watched Blake take small sips of water.

“I’m Peaches,” she said softly, her hand sliding away from Blake’s, “What’s your name?”

“Blake,” Blake choked out between sips of water. The woman frowned.

“Blake? I know that name from somewhere…” Blake’s breath caught in her throat and she nearly choked on her water. “Have we met before?” the woman asked and Blake shook her head slowly. “Oh, figures. I would have remembered someone as cute as you.”

Blake had to bite back a snarl. That was  _ Yang’s _ line, not some stranger with her face! That was the first thing that Yang had said to her all those years ago, when the two had first started to flirt. 

Then the realization hit. This was The God of Death’s ‘addition’, his extra layer to her punishment. She was going to have to lose Yang again. This woman wasn’t Yang, she didn’t have her history, her life, but she was so similar, so close to Yang that Blake could already feel herself settling into the comforting throes of love. She couldn’t let herself do that, she couldn’t let the Gods win, but then the woman said,

“You should come back to my house. It gets cold at night around here, and I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

Blake accepted before she even knew what was happening. 

She didn’t leave that village for another sixty years, and she slept in Peaches’ house and ate her food every day and every night. Eventually, the two had fallen in love. Blake couldn’t help herself. Peaches was just so  _ similar _ to Yang that it was impossible to keep herself from falling in love with her all over again. She already knew all the woman’s favorite foods, her favorite color, the right place to massage her shoulders to get a pleasant groan of relief. When Peaches realized that Blake didn’t age, Blake assumed she was going to throw her out in terror. Instead, she had smiled and said,

“I fell in love with a fae, didn’t I? Oh, father always warned me about that, but I never believed him.” For the next forty years, Blake had a new nickname: ‘Little Fairy’. She loved that nickname, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Peaches the truth. 

And when Peaches died, Blake had cried herself into a stupor for weeks. It was all the pain of losing Yang all over again, made doubly awful by the very fact that Blake could never join them. Whether Peaches was Yang or just some trick by the Gods, it didn’t matter. Blake had loved her, and losing her made her want to collapse into the dirt and get trampled by the world around her. 

She couldn’t bear another lifetime like that, she couldn’t lose Yang a third time.

A hundred lifetimes later, Blake had loved Yang a hundred times over. 

Sometimes she found Yang when she was young, sometimes when she was an old woman. Some lifetimes she was more of a friend or an adopted daughter than a lover, but every lifetime was the same.

Every lifetime she wandered, ranging high into the mountains and crossing the deepest oceans, and every time Yang found her again. Every time, Blake couldn’t help but fall in love with her. She had loved Yang under a hundred different names, Cyprus, Ella, Ilain, Mantra, it didn’t matter. They were all  _ Yang _ . 

And she couldn’t do it again. She refused. So she stopped wandering, and hid. She tucked herself into the sewers of a decent sized town and hid away, scrounging at scraps and stealing bits of food to survive. People in town began to call her scum, an animal, but she ignored them. If it saved her that heartbreak, she would live at the bottom of the sea. 

Somehow she thought that Yang would find her even there.

Early one morning she was feasting on what she managed to steal the night before, bread, cheese, and a rare treat: fruit. She devoured the food, shoveling it into her mouth with reckless abandon. If someone saw her and was disgusted, so much the better. It would scare them off, and that would keep Yang away. 

“Hey,” someone said, and Blake’s heart sank. She knew that voice. Blake glared over her shoulder at the familiar face of Yang. With luck that would scare the woman away. All it did was make her smile softly. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Blake mumbled, throwing her food aside and scrambling away, “No, no, no! Get away from me!” She wouldn’t do this again, she  _ couldn’t _ do this again. The woman held up her hands in a peacemaking gesture and stayed where she was.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I was...people always talk about you. I was hoping I could help you out.” Of course Yang was here to help, Blake groaned to herself. That was what Blake had fallen in love with first, that overwhelming desire to help people.

“You can help me by getting the fuck away from me!” Blake screamed and the woman flinched, but held her ground.

“Okay, I’ll go. But I’m going to come back tomorrow, with some real food. Or, if you want, you can come with me and-” 

“Don’t!” Blake screeched, hurling a half eaten roll of bread at the woman. It bounced off her head and made the woman frown. “Don’t you dare! I-I can’t-” she tried to choke back the words, but it was too late now and they came tumbling out unbidden, “I can’t do this with you again. Please, just leave me be. I won’t do this again.”

“Again?” the woman asked, “What do you mean again?”

“I-It’s…” Blake trailed off and all her fury and fear faded away under the gentle gaze of the woman who wasn’t Yang. “It’s going to sound crazy.”

“Try me,” the woman said softly. Gods, Blake would go to the death a thousand times over for that soft, comforting whisper. The truth, Blake thought, would make the woman flee. It was more ludicrous than any lie she could come up with.

“I’m immortal,” Blake said dully, expecting the woman to start backing away slowly.

“And?” the woman asked, and Blake’s breath caught in her throat, “What’s wrong with being immortal?”

“Because you’re not!” Blake wailed, collapsing to the ground. The woman immediately took a step forward, hands reaching out to aid her, but Blake scrambled away further. “You! You’re what’s wrong with it! Because you’re  _ mortal _ , Yang!”

The woman’s brow furrowed and she looked away, as though trying to think of something to say. After a long moment they mumbled, “Yang…I know that name...Yang...”

Blake didn’t notice, just kept screaming her reasons for the woman to flee. “I can’t do this again! I’ve loved you a hundred times and every time you’re ripped away from me. But gods, you always find me again. You always find me and I fall in love all over again like a fool!” 

“Yang,” the woman muttered as Blake babbled, then she said, “That’s my name, isn’t it?”

That made Blake snap her jaw shut, and suddenly the sewers were thrust back into silence. “What?”

“That’s my name, right? My parents named me Maple, but my real name, it’s Yang,” the woman said, meeting Blake’s eye. She looked so confused, so conflicted as she spoke. “I...died. I’ve died a lot of times, haven’t I?” All Blake could do was nod slowly. The woman’s eyes widened as they stared and then suddenly, they breathed out, “Blake? Is that you?”

“Y-Yang?” Blake choked out, and the woman nodded, joy spreading across her face.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m Yang. Gods, I remember everything now.”

“Prove it,” Blake snapped and the woman’s smile became gentle again.

“I remember living with you in a cottage on the river, in the northern part of Mistral, with our dogs Verna and Equinox. I remember counting the stars with you in Vacuo and how amazed I was that you knew all those stories about the constellations. I remember living in Vale, in that little shack underneath an inn. We worked as innkeepers for a while, then we bought the place for ourselves. We lived in Mantle, and every day I’d come home from the mines and you would have a cup of tea waiting for me. Chamomile tea, your favorite.”

Blake let out a strangled cry and threw herself at the woman, who immediately wrapped her up in a hug. “It’s you! Oh gods, you remembered!”

“Of course I did,” Yang said softly, holding Blake so tightly that she could barely breathe, “I just needed you to remind me.” 

Blake had kissed Yang thousands of times over a hundred lifetimes, but this time it was different. It was almost like their first kiss, all those centuries ago, renewed with thousands of new memories. This was a kiss of new beginnings, shared between ancient souls. 

This time when Yang passed, Blake wasn’t quite as sad. It still hurt, it would always hurt, but this time she knew that she had loved Yang, not some stranger with her face. And now she knew how to remind Yang of their lives together, at least she thought she did. She would need more proof.

So she spent the next two and a half decades scouring the planet for her. She traveled from Atlas, to Vale, to Mitral, to Vacuo, and then back again. It wasn’t until she passed by a ship that was heading to Menagerie that she got even a ghost of a clue where Yang might be. The sailors were talking about some daring young captain out of Kuo Kuana, a fiercely intelligent young woman who took the most precious cargo and braved the deadliest storms at the helm of a ship called the  _ Golden Dragon _ .

Yang. It had to be. 

Blake had bought her way aboard the ship and then sailed with them the three months it took to reach the continent of Menagerie. The moment she was ashore she had combed the docks, asking everyone for this new captain. Eventually, someone pointed her in the right direction and she all but sprinted to the ship.

Sure enough, there was the love of her life. She was a vision in her sailor’s garb, complete with a fine jacket and tri corner hat. She had a piece of paper in her hand, a manifest for the ship if Blake had to guess.

“Morning captain,” Blake said cheerily as she approached. Yang turned, a huge smile on her face, but still a smile reserved for passengers. 

“Morning! Captain Auburn Winslow, at your service,” Yang said and bowed low. Blake giggled softly to herself at the sight, then Yang righted herself and said, “Are you one of our passengers this voyage ma’am? A straight shot to Argus then back ‘round the horn, in case you need reminding.”

“This must be the right place,” Blake mused, “I’m Blake, Blake Belladonna.” Yang studied her list for a moment, read it through twice, then frowned and shook her head.

“Sorry, ma’am. No one by that name on my list, I’m afraid. But,” she shot Blake a wink, “I don’t mind a stowaway if they’re as pretty as you.”

“I bet you say that to everyone,” Blake said dryly, then asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a Xiao Long on there, would you? A Yang Xiao Long?”

“Hmm,” the captain hummed to themselves, the same deep resonating tone that Blake loved so much. “Let’s see here...Yang Xiao...Long…” The words trailed off and the captain blinked hard a few times, then her gaze snapped up. “Blake? Oh gods, it is you!”

Suddenly the two were kissing furiously, and Yang kept muttering Blake’s name as though it were the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. They spent the rest of that lifetime sailing the seas and having wonderful adventures.

Now Blake knew what she had to do. The Gods were cruel, yes, that was always going to be true, but she had found a loophole. All she had to do was remind Yang of her name, and all the memories came flooding back. Sometimes it was easier than others and Yang would be overjoyed to remember their past. Sometimes Yang spent months reconciling what they had learned, but they always remembered their love for Blake above all else. Sometimes they insisted on going by the name that they had in that lifetime, sometimes they returned to using Yang. It didn’t matter, really. She and Blake were in love. That was what mattered.

In this most recent lifetime, now with the world dominated by rumbling cars and towering skyscrapers, Blake had been walking through downtown Vale when she bumped into Yang. She was dressed in a fitted suit and carrying a briefcase, and had only slowed down enough to mutter a quick apology before carrying on. Blake whirled around, struggling to push through the crowd and find her love again, but the crowd swept her away. So she did the only thing she could think of: she leaned back her head and screamed, “Yang!” at the top of her lungs.

Everyone stopped and stared at her, some in disbelief, some in fury, some in disgust, but the only eyes that mattered were those wonderfully familiar lilac eyes in the distance. The two had met in the middle of the street and kissed, reunited again.

Now they were lying awake in Yang’s bed, months later. It was a weekend, and they had just spent the past few hours deep in one another’s love. Yang was laying on her side, smiling over at Blake who was busy curling herself around Yang.

“You found me this time, little fairy,” Yang said softly, and Blake hummed in agreement.

“Yeah, I did. Gods, I should’ve been looking for you the whole time.”

“It’s okay. I found you, didn’t I?” Yang laughed quietly and muttered, “Peaches. What a name.”

“I thought it was cute,” Blake said and snuggled closer, “Better than Auburn Winslow.”

“Aw, c’mon, I liked that name,” Yang protested and the two laughed. They stayed in contented silence for a moment before Yang said, “You know there’s a movie about that coming out soon, about Auburn Winslow.”

“Really?” Blake mumbled before nipping lightly at Yang’s ear. She laughed sharply at that and planted a kiss on Blake’s cheek in return.

“Yeah, really. A romance about them and their lover. Apparently you’re a mermaid.”

“Well, nobody told me that. It might’ve been nice to be a mermaid once in a while.”

Yang laughed again. “You wanna go see it? We can see how accurate it is.”

Blake repressed a shudder at the thought. Moving pictures. They were still the scariest thing she’d ever seen. It had taken Yang years and no less than three trips to movie sets to convince her that it was all fake. “You don’t get hurt in it, do you?”

“I think I lose an arm at some point,” Yang said softly, “It’s all pirates and action, not the boring stuff we really did.”

“I don’t think that being with you could ever be boring,” Blake said and Yang nuzzled against her.

“Well, you haven’t stopped being with me yet. I must be doing something right.”

“You’re you, Yang. That’s all it takes for me.”

They stared into each other eyes, beautiful lilac gazing in stunning amber and kissed once more. They didn’t need to say any more, the feelings translated through their contact. The lifetimes, the endless years spilled together into one beautiful tapestry of love and devotion.

They were together, and that was enough. They would always be enough for one another, no matter how many lifetimes passed. Their love was immortal, no matter how many times they had to meet for the first time. The cruelty of the Gods had backfired, and spectacularly so. Blake couldn’t wait to spend the rest of forever with Yang. 


	4. Day Four-AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years after defeating Salem, the Blake and Yang get on with their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally just going to be the first half, but inspiration struck and I had to keep going.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Flattery won’t help you.”

“I broke one vase.”

“It was a wedding gift, Yang.”

Yang snorted with laughter and plopped her chin on the bed. She was kneeling next to her and Blake’s bed, next to the most beautiful woman in the world. Blake was staring down at her in amusement, a book propped open on her stomach. She wasn’t really mad at Yang, and her demand that the blonde sleep on the couch the previous night was more so she could stretch out in bed to soothe her sore muscles. “It was a cheap wedding gift.”

“It was,” Blake agreed with a smirk, “Qrow has bad taste.”

“Not if you ask Ruby.”

“Ruby’s a special case.”

“Yeah she is,” Yang said fondly. Blake reached out and ruffled her partner’s hair with one hand, and Yang smiled as she leaned into the touch. That had been Yang’s personal wedding gift for Blake, not only letting her touch Yang’s hair but letting her do whatever she pleased with it. 

“How’s she doing? I haven’t seen her in a while,” Blake asked, letting her hand drift away and her fingers stroke along Yang’s jawline. The touch drew Yang in and soon she was propped up on the bed by her elbows.

“She’s fine. The eye bothers her a bit sometimes, but she’s gotten used to it,” Yang said with a shrug. The loss of Ruby’s eye had been devastating to the young huntress for a while, at least until she had gotten a custom made eyepatch from Pietro Polendina. After that, she was all but begging to tell people the story of how she lost her eye. “Penny’s hanging around still, so they’re off hunting Grimm together.”

“I thought Ruby always went out with Weiss?” Blake asked.

Yang shrugged again. “She would be, but Winter is over in Vale right now so Weiss is busy with her. Apparently Winter’s been so busy she didn’t realize that she had a niece or that Weiss was our kid’s godmother, so Weiss jumped at the chance to go see her.”

“Ah,” Blake grunted and rolled onto her side and rested her head on one hand, a finger keeping her place in her book. “How’s taking care of Lilla?”

Yang couldn’t keep the smile off her face, nor the warm feeling of happiness and pride that swelled in her heart. The thought of their daughter always made her happy, especially when she saw how much the little tyke resembled Blake. Now at the age of three, she had really begun to show her personality. “She’s fine, most days. I can’t get her to eat green beans though.”

“She hates the color green,” Blake said softly, “probably because Oscar almost dropped her.”

“Gods, I was pissed at him for weeks,” Yang said with a snort of laughter.

“We both were. If I wasn’t bedridden I’d have punched him, I swear to the gods,” Blake grumbled and Yang laughed.

“You almost did anyway,” Yang said, feeling a sudden rush of love for Blake at the memory. Thankfully for Oscar, his grip had been steadier than it seemed while holding Lilla, or he would have found himself on the business end of Ember Celica. Blake had almost launched herself out of bed to attack him regardless, and she might have succeeded if Weiss hadn’t held her back. At the thought of Weiss, another thought popped into Yang’s head and she laughed again. “You know Weiss wants to know when we’re having another kid?”

“Oh gods, really?” Blake groaned, “She’s insufferable.” When Lilla had been born, Weiss had been named the child’s godmother. The very instant that happened, she had caught some kind of bug that made her demand her friends have more children that she could dote on. Whenever Lilla was under Weiss’ care, the woman spoiled her absolutely rotten. Even after Weiss had her own child the next year, a beautiful little girl named Aspen, she had obsessively wanted her friends to have more children.

“I tried to tell her we weren’t planning on it, but she didn’t listen.”

“Of course she didn’t. You’d think that Aspen and Ruby would be enough to deal with.”

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re talking about,” Yang said in mock offense and Blake’s smile returned. There was a long moment of silence as they stared at each other, lost in one another’s eyes. “If we do have another kid, I’ll carry them,” Yang said softly and Blake’s smile shifted to become gentle and tender. Sure, Yang was proud of her abs and she knew that she would almost certainly lose them for a while after childbirth, but it was barely even a sacrifice. The chance to grow a family with Blake was worth any cost.

“Thanks, hon,” Blake said softly, reaching up to stroke Yang’s cheek. With the touch, Yang finally climbed into bed fully and lay down next to Blake. Blake laughed softly and said, “So Lilla’s asleep?”

“In her baby jail, yeah,” Yang replied and Blake stifled another laugh.

“It’s a playpen, Yang.”

“It sure looks like a jail to me.”

Yang reached out and cupped Blake’s cheek, guiding her in for a kiss. They met in the middle, gently sharing the moment. Even now, years after their first kiss, it still seemed like time froze when they kissed. It was like the entire universe held its breath and paused, allowing the lovers to have their moment together. Maybe that was how everyone felt, Yang mused, but it didn’t matter. Her love for Blake was special and unique. They were exactly what the other needed, and they had become so much more than the sum of their parts. Their daughter was the final piece of the puzzle, the string that would bind them all together forever. 

As they seperated, Blake smiled into Yang’s lips and murmured, “Do you remember how anxious you were when Lilla was born?”

Yang nodded ruefully, shuffling closer so there was no more space between them. “Gods, I was a mess. I just didn’t want to screw it up. I-I didn't-”

“I know, hon,” Blake said softly, nuzzling her forehead against Yang’s, “I know. I shouldn’t have brought it up, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” For weeks after Lilla was born, Yang’s dreams had been plagued with images of Raven. There was so much terror there, such a deep, primal fear that Yang could barely function some days. For a while, Yang had thought that she was going to be the same way as her mother, a hazy memory in a child’s imagination. 

But then she had remembered Summer and Tai, Ghira and Kali. She remembered raising Ruby, and playing with Adrian in the Cotta-Arc house back in Argus. She had seen Blake as a parent and her heart was set aflame with love and determination. All the role models that Yang had ever needed were right in front of her, and so she had set her entire body and mind to being the best mother she could be. Now, with Lilla showing signs of both Blake’s curiosity and Yang’s courage, she couldn't have been prouder.

“She’s a good kid, isn’t she?” Yang whispered and Blake nodded, her eyes fluttering closed. 

“Yeah...she’s...the best of us…” Blake murmured before drifting off to sleep. Yang let out a contented sigh and nestled in closer. Lilla was the best of them, all of their strengths and none of their weaknesses. Perhaps someday, she too would be a huntress. Perhaps one day, Lilla would go off on her own adventures and-

Yang cut off her ruminations, and closed her eyes. The future would come when it did. Right now, it was a good time for a nap with the love of her life.

“You sure you have everything?” Yang asked with a grunt as she loaded the last box into the back of the truck. There were a lifetime’s worth of supplies in the back of that truck, fitting for a young woman moving away to college. Half the boxes were full of books, Blake’s love of reading a well learned habit in her daughter. Lilla nodded, her black hair bobbing as she did so.

“Yeah, I’ve got everything. I double checked,” she said, resting her hands on her hips. Yang glanced over at her daughter and smiled. She couldn’t help but see how much of herself was in the young woman, from the fiery determination in her amber eyes to the power stance she had adopted.

“You know that mom’s gonna ask again, right?” Yang asked and Lilla rolled her eyes with a sigh. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Yang laughed and shook her head before reaching into her pocket and bringing something out. It was a small notebook, covered in sunflowers and cartoon cats. On the front, written in shaky, childlike handwriting, was ‘Property of Lilla Belladonna-Xiao Long! No reading,  _ moms _ !’ Yang offered it to her daughter as she murmured, “You almost forgot this.”

Lilla chuckled softly, “I haven’t written in that since I was eleven.” Regardless, she took it from her mother and tucked it into her coat pocket. Lilla took a shaky breath and met her mother’s eye with a brave smile. “Thanks mom.”

“No problem, sunflower,” Yang whispered, suddenly aware that her daughter was going to be moving away. It was only a few hours out at the rebuilt Beacon Academy, but somehow it felt like a world away. Before she could get too lost in her worry and sadness, the door slammed open behind them.

True to form, Blake came storming out of the house, her hair a wild mess and her eyes puffy and red from crying. “Lilla! Are you sure you have all your stuff?”

“Yes, mom, I have everything! I just told mom that I did, she’s been moving it out here with me all morning.” Lilla turned to face her other mother, only to have Blake nearly tackle her with a hug. 

“Are you sure? You have your weapon?” Blake asked.

“She’s on my back, mom,” Lilla said, shifting her shoulders so that Blake could feel the weapon move in their embrace. Little of Blake’s stealthy preferences had manifested in Lilla, she preferred a more bombastic style of combat. During her time at Signal, she had refused to let either Yang or her Aunt Ruby help her build or design her weapon, insisting that she had to do it all herself. In the end, she wound up with a gigantic cannon that could turn into a massive zweihander at the press of a button. The sheer scale of the weapon had left both Yang and Blake speechless, as had Lilla’s incredible skill with it. She was bound to become a fantastic huntress.

“And extra ammunition? Clothes? Your scroll is charged?” Blake murmured, holding her daughter tighter to herself.

“Mom!” Lilla said with an exasperated sigh. She leaned back and gestured at the truck, full to bursting with her and Aspen’s things. “I’m sure I have everything.”

“Lilla!” Aspen yelled from the driver’s seat, leaning over so everyone could see her in the window. Her long off-green hair flowed around her face, most of it done up in a messy bun. She looked remarkably like Weiss, albeit with little of her mother’s perfectionism. “We have to go, the airship to Beacon isn’t gonna wait forever!”

“One more second!” Lilla said, and suddenly Yang was hugging her as well. She laughed as she held her mothers tight, her cat ears flicking happily. “I’ll let you know when I get there. And I’ll be safe, promise.”

“Not too safe, right?” Yang teased and Blake pinched her on the side, making her yelp in surprise. 

“You’ll call us, won’t you? If anything goes wrong?” Blake asked softly and Lilla nodded, nuzzling against her mother.

“Of course. I’ll call you if things go right, too,” Lilla said and Blake sighed before breaking off the hug. She smiled gently, wrapping an arm around Yang to keep from hugging her daughter again. More tears had begun to fall down her cheeks, tears of joy and pride. Lilla hopped into the truck, making sure to tuck her tail in before she closed the door, and clasped hands with Aspen in victory. Yang couldn’t help but see herself and Ruby in the two of them. The young women were basically like sisters anyway, having grown up together and attended Signal in the same year. 

“Give our best to Headmistress Goodwitch!” Blake yelled.

“When’s the airship getting there?” Yang called out as Aspen started the truck.

“I’m not sure,” Lilla called back, waving for Aspen to get them underway, “The details are still up in the air!” She winked playfully at her parents and then the truck drove off, Blake and Yang waving as a cloud of dust chased the vehicle down the road.

Blake sighed and leaned into Yang. “She learned that from you.”

“What?” Yang asked, hugging Blake to her.

“The puns,” Blake groaned, “They’re even worse than yours.”

Yang snorted with laughter, and reached up with one hand to stroke a teardrop from Blake’s cheek. “I know. I’m so proud.” Blake grumbled good naturedly, resting her head on Yang's shoulder. “Tea?”

“Please.”

The two headed back inside to have some tea and relax. Yang thought that the house seemed a bit empty without their daughter around, but that was alright. It gave her and Blake plenty of time to be together. A nice warm mug of tea was a fine way to start the next part of their lives.


	5. Day Five-Affection/Love Languages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake decides to do something nice for the team, with a little help from Yang.

They weren’t dating. That was the sorry truth of the matter, and Yang cursed herself for not trying to push their relationship further. Blake was just...well, if you were to ask Yang, she would say Blake was just about perfect. Of course, Blake had her complexities and her nuances, but Yang loved those just as much as everything else about Blake. But no matter how much Yang loved Blake, it didn’t really matter. Because they weren’t dating.

So, Yang had resolved to show her love for Blake in other ways. 

“Tea?” Yang asked as she approached Blake in the Atlas dorms.

“If you’re making some-Oh!” Blake stopped in surprise as she saw that Yang already had a warm mug of her favorite tea in her hand, and another for herself. Blake took it and smiled up at Yang softly, “Thanks.”

“No problem, partner,” Yang said with a shrug, gestured at Blake’s bed. “Mind if I sit?” Blake shrugged and scooted over, leaving enough room for Yang to plop down next to her. She glanced over at her friend, finding her in the middle of something on her scroll. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Oh, a chocolate chip cookie recipe,” Blake said and Yang looked again, eyes locking onto a familiar list of ingredients. “Ruby’s been really stressed, so I was hoping to cheer her up a bit.”

Yang laughed at that and shook her head, “You’d better double it. Ruby can eat her weight in cookies.”

“Well, you seem to be the expert. Wanna help me make them?” Blake asked, then took a sip of her tea. She let out a satisfied sigh as she did so, and Yang felt a rush of happiness that she could make Blake feel so at ease. 

“Sure. Do we have everything?”

“I think so. C’mon, let’s find out.”

Soon the two were busy in the small dorm kitchen that each floor of Atlas Academy had. It was scarcely stocked, due in no small part to the strict regimen imposed up on the students, but even so there were more than enough supplies to make the cookies. Yang made sure to grab an extra bag of chocolate chips; she knew her sister well enough to know that the recipe would never call for enough chocolate to satisfy her. 

She leaned on the counter and watched as Blake carefully measured out ingredients, setting them aside in order of when they were needed for the recipe. It was a familiar sight, she did the same back on Patch, but Blake was being much more precise than Yang ever had been. Cooking wasn’t her forte, but she had enough experience making cookies to be able to throw them together without a second thought. Once the ingredients were in the bowl, a huge metal thing that required two hands to stir properly, Blake slid it all to Yang to mix together. 

“So,” Yang asked with a grunt of effort as Blake added in the dry ingredients, “What made you want to make cookies?”

“Just trying to keep everyone calm,” Blake said with a shrug. “We’re under a lot of pressure, and the last thing we need is people breaking down. Maybe we can all have some cookies and watch a movie or something.”

Yang snorted and shook her head, “If Ironwood ever gives us a night off.”

“Yeah, he’s a real stick in the mud isn’t he?”

“That’s putting it lightly.” The two laughed softly and their eyes met, beautiful lilac into shining amber. Yang felt her face flush red and immediately turned her focus back on the dough, while Blake dove underneath the counter to grab a few sheet pans and parchment paper. 

It took Yang a moment to realize what should have been obvious from the start: this wasn’t just making cookies to calm everyone down. Blake was taking on a share of the burden that was keeping everyone’s spirits up. Between Yang and Ruby it was usually a pretty easy task, made all the more so by Penny’s endless enthusiasm, but with the looming election and rising tensions due to the possibility of Grimm attacks it was getting harder to be optimistic. 

Maybe a night of cookies and bad movies was exactly what they needed. 

“It’s nice of you to do this, Blake,” Yang said softly as she finished incorporating the mixture. She grabbed a pair of spoons to start scooping the dough as Blake slid a sheet pan over to her. 

“We’re a team right? We’ve gotta look out for one another,” Blake said, but her ears flicked backwards in a way that Yang knew was embarrassment. “Besides, you’re always doing stuff for the team. I figured that somebody else should pitch in.”

“Thank you Blake. For...everything. I mean it,” Yang said softly, reaching over and giving Blake’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. Blake’s breath hitched slightly at the contact and she nodded, a shy smile spreading across her face. 

“We can even watch one of those shitty action movies you love,” Blake teased and Yang snorted. 

“Better than one of your rom-coms.”

“Wha-I thought you liked those movies!”

“I do,” Yang said, sending a wink that made Blake blush heavily, “But I prefer to just watch them with you. You remember when we watched  _ The Man with Two Souls _ , Ruby started gagging every time they kissed.”

“Oh gods, don’t remind me,” Blake groaned, and Yang laughed again. There was a long moment of silence, then Blake said, “Maybe we should do something together when we get a night off.” Her voice was soft, tentative, and Yang found herself drawn to it like a siren at sea. 

“What about spending time with Ruby and Weiss?” she asked softly and Blake shrugged.

“We can do that too but...I’ve missed spending time with you Yang. I miss our little adventures.”

Yang felt her heart leap in her chest and before she knew what was happening she had wrapped Blake up in a hug. Blake sighed and leaned into it, nuzzling against Yang’s shoulder. “I miss them too,” Yang said softly, “even the ones where we blow stuff up.”

“Especially those ones,” Blake mumbled and Yang hugged her tighter.

So maybe they weren’t dating. Yang thought that this was just as good. She had missed Blake more than she could even begin to describe. The fact that she was so willing to show her love, her affection, meant more to Yang than anything else in that moment. 

Hopefully they could avoid blowing something up on their first adventure in Mantle, but where team RWBY went, trouble followed. Still, as long as she had Blake by her side, Yang knew everything would work out fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't quite sure what to do with this one, but I'm happy with how it turned out.  
> Hope you enjoy!


	6. Day Six-Sun/Moon

Umbra

Night falls and the moon arises far

In the distance one watches from beyond the curve

Truth hides in shadowy places, cast by light and 

Reflection of another

Yet not just reflection, not just a mirror, she

Is more than that, a being unto herself

But know that the light that is upon you was always

Ready, always there, always from within

Even as you reflect your other’s glory

She hides behind the mountains and clouds with

No such thought as to what she might see or who

Might yet see her

When truth has landed in her yellowed gaze, one 

Might look up and see her above, and wonder

From whence do you come, gracious one?

And where 

Do you return?

Solaris

She gives and gives and gives with no thought

To herself

She refuses to take, her warmth and light as

Powerful and truthful as life itself

She misses the one who reflects her, pines without

A breath, a break, a chance to recover

She listens

She hears

The sun shines and shows the world below the 

Truth that has yet to be

She follows on her own path,

Unaware of her other, so close!

One pursues the one and the other pursues the

Other

Again and again

Round the curve

Cycle

One rises, one sets

One shines, one darkens

They chase each other, across the sky, laughing

What might have come

What might have been

Is long gone

What might they think?

What might they do?

The future awaits,

Reunited

Trust and love must grow from truth, and reflection

Does the moon reflect the sun? Yes

But, 

I think,

Sometimes, on those rare days when the two meet,

And darkness covers the land, midday,

The sun

Reflects the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a different style than usual, so I'm not sure how to feel about this one.


	7. Day Seven-Tiger/Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of clashing legends and the ties of love.

They think they know you. They think they understand. Impossible.

You are the best huntress in the world, traveling astride your mighty steed, bow in hand, sword at the ready. 

The world is full of terrible beasts with horrible claws and vicious teeth. Fortunately, the gods saw fit to bless you with a strong arm and keen amber eyes with which to hunt them. You never met your match, not in Menagerie, Atlas, Mistral, or Vacuo, not until you came to Vale. Beasts in other lands, creatures that could level cities, they run from you, cower at the mention of your name.

Not me. I am a legend as well, do you remember? They told stories about me, whispered of me in taverns and around dinner tables, the dragon in the mountains. The ferocious golden scaled monster that soared down in the spring and burned their fields, stole their cattle in the summer, and taunted their greatest warriors come the fall. You came in winter.

No one could touch me, no one could scratch my mighty hide until you came. I admit, you intrigued me. I would not have been so easy to catch were you not of great interest to me. My father and sister warned me to stay away, to flee from the Tiger of Menagerie, but I refused. I love a good challenge. Both of us do.

Your arrows bounced off my scales, denting my armor and bruising the soft flesh underneath, your sword scarred my muzzle, but I kept fighting. My fire burned around you, my claws ravaged the earth where you stood, but you refused to run. Pride kept us fighting. We had legends to maintain, after all. 

The moon rose slowly over that fourth day, four dawns and three sunsets of constant battle. To think that the bards in Vale believe they know what a truly glorious fight looks like. Fools! We were two combatants of old, gods battling for dominance.

The moon struck me, blazing in its eternal glory above our heads, and I felt my strength waning. No longer could I fly, my wings so ruined and bloody from your blade, and so I crawled along the ground like a wyrm. Even as I felt my muscles falter, as my will began to fade, I saw the same in you.

We were so willing to continue the fight, to push onwards until only one of us was left standing, but no amount of will could push our bodies forwards. The flesh, of both dragons and tigers, is weak. The fight had taken its toll on both of us. 

And so, as the moon rose on that fourth evening, we stared at one another across the scorched, blasted clearing our battle had created. Lilac eyes locked with amber, but I saw no vehemence in your gaze. You were happy, ludicrously joyous, and you began to laugh. I have lived for thousands of years, and I have never heard a sound so beautiful as that. You were so proud, so excited to have finally found a creature you couldn't beat. The thrill of the hunt, you admitted, had faded years ago. What use is there for all your skill if there is no one left to challenge it?

And so I began to laugh as well, a sound that shook the earth and forced your ears to flatten atop your head. I still feel sorry for that, and I always will. So, under the light of the moon, I summoned what strength I had left and used the limited magicks available to me. You gasped in awe and wonder as I transformed, and soon I was like you: small, fleshy, though a human to your Faunus.

All that was left of my mighty form were my lilac eyes and golden hair instead of scales. The claws, teeth, flames, and wings were gone. It was hardly a sacrifice, if it allowed me to laugh with you. This time, when I laughed, your smile brightened the very night air around us.

You were amazed and I felt so proud of that. Your joy was something that I had never seen before that moment, but I knew that I would never be able to live without it. 

We talked, we talked for days. Though I have stories from thousands of years ago, a hundred lifetimes of memories to draw upon, your stories fascinated me to no end. Your life seemed so wonderful and full of adventure in a way that mine never had. The same way that I was enraptured by your life, so too were you enraptured by mine. You had never been able to talk with one of your hunts before, and I think that made you far more excited than anything else. I told you, as the week ended, that it would take the rest of your life to hear all my stories. You told me that you were willing to listen. 

I have never known love, not the way the romances describe it, not until then. No one had heard my stories for the first time in centuries. You have no idea how lonely it gets, with no one to converse with, no one to grow with. I have been stagnant for millenia, the same foolhardy dragon I had ever been, but you saw beyond that. You saw the willingness to learn and grow, and I saw the same in you. Dragon and huntress, perhaps we could help one another become more. 

My father and sister found us eventually, demanding to know what I was doing. You reached for your sword as a pair of mighty dragons landed near us, but I turned them away. They didn’t understand our bond, did they? No one does, no one but us. 

The people in the villages below were shocked when you returned with me. I had my arm slung across your shoulders, pretending to be wounded, a victim of the golden scaled terror. You said that you hadn’t slain the best, but had saved a prisoner they had taken. The people, fools they might be, believed you without question. I was invited in, welcomed even, into their homes. We built a home for ourselves on the edges of town, after all, your contract to hunt me down had yet to be fulfilled. 

Every few days you departed for the mountains to hunt me. I remained safely at home, kept the fire burning and the larder stocked for your return. Eventually, we put on quite a show for the village, didn’t we?

I swooped down overhead on my mighty wings, roaring my defiance at your attacks, until one hit home. So I slammed into the earth, deep in the forest, clutching the arrow that had slain me to my heart. You laughed harder than I had ever heard before when you found me, calmly cleaning my nails with that same arrow in a crater the size of the town square. The villagers believed me dead, and they accepted you as a part of their lives.

I don’t mind that I may never fly again, nor breathe fire or chase down mighty beasts with my claws. It’s not a sacrifice, not when compared to a life with you. Now that we are at peace, without the villagers begging you to hunt their dragon menace, I can finally tell you all my stories. 

I have never felt happier to do so. 

They can’t understand. You’re not just a tiger, and I am not just a dragon. You are  _ my _ tiger, and I am  _ your _ dragon. And together, we are so much more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to play around with style again for this day, and I'm happy with the results.


	8. Day Eight-Bonus Day/Voice Actor Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An AU in which everyone in Remnant has a prophecy that can lead them to their soulmate. Yang isn't a fan of hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other option I wrote for day three, that I liked too much to let gather dust in my documents.

“You will know her by her smile. What does that even mean?” Yang groaned letting her head fall into her hands. The rest of the world carried on around her, hundreds of hopeful young adults mingling and chatting in a gigantic, slapdash version of speed dating. She didn’t even want to look up and see anyone else, lest they think that she was the object of their desires. This year’s Vale Prophecy Meetup was a bust, as usual.

Colloquially called a Prop Meet, these gatherings were common throughout Remnant. Everyone was born with a prophecy, a single sentence that was meant to guide them to their soulmate. Nobody knew how the prophecies were created, or even if there was a source, but they had connected lovers with unerring accuracy for thousands of years. Some people whispered of white haired witch, high in the mountains of some distant land, crafting the prophecies by hand for everyone in Remnant, but most people thought that was nonsense. Magic didn’t exist, and besides, the world was so big there was no way that one person could do all that work. 

The sheer size of Remnant and the population that lived upon it were the reason for these Prop Meets. They were a chance for young people to get together and talk, laugh, sing, anything that they thought might get the attention of their soulmate. It didn’t help that some prophecies were specific, giving people’s names in some cases, and others were so vague as to only mention a day of the week or the weather as a specific detail. Of course, vagueness was the point of some prophecies. Everyone heard the stories of people who were the subject of a half dozen other prophecies, living in happy communes with a handful of soulmates. Some people never even found their soulmates, or if they did it wasn’t until they were very old. Some prophecies were even one time scenarios that could be missed, and if so the opportunity was gone forever. That was the kind of life that terrified Yang most, the idea of growing old alone. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to find her soulmate, quite the opposite in fact, but the prophecy was so vague that she was afraid of getting it wrong. There were plenty of women with wonderful smiles. What good would it do to pledge herself to someone only to have them actually be someone else’s soulmate? She didn’t want to get her heart broken over a mistake like that. Back when she was a child, she had thought that the prophecy had to be incorrect as she wasn’t even attracted to women, but hoo boy what a mistake that had been. 

It also didn’t help that there was pressure from her parents. They didn’t mean to pressure her to find her soulmate, not at all. Rather, it was the fact that they had all found theirs in such rapid succession that Yang would be ashamed to miss out. 

Raven and Summer told the story at least five times a year, as everyone loved to hear prophecy stories over holidays. When she was a child, Yang loved to hear the story as well, adored hearing how her parents met. Now, the story only made her anxious. There was no set age when people were 'supposed' to meet their soulmate, but the average age did trend to the younger side. Yang just didn't want to spend her life alone.

“What’s your favorite color?” 

Yang picked her head up and looked around, finally catching the eye of the young man who had spoken to her. He had a head full of messy blonde hair and soft blue eyes and was standing just a bit too far away to be confidently approaching the woman he thought was going to be his soulmate.

“Yellow. Why?” Yang replied and the man’s face fell.

“Ah...nothing. Sorry to bother you,” he muttered before turning away. 

Yang called out, “Hope you find her!” and the man waved in acknowledgement with a sheepish smile. She glanced around again. Nobody caught her eye, and pretty much everyone was busy with somebody else. Some were happily leaving with their soulmates, arm in arm, while others were crying on friend’s shoulders at how hopeless it all seemed. If Yang had come here with someone else, she might have considered doing the same.

It all seemed so easy when Summer and Raven told their story. Raven’s prophecy had been direct and meaningful, ‘When your greatest fear threatens, hold fast’. Of course, Raven had grown up never turning away from a challenge and standing up for herself no matter how afraid she was, but it was the prospect of raising Yang that had horrified her most. In her words, she hadn’t felt like she was up to the task, like she would be a bad mother. If her twin brother, Qrow, hadn’t reminded her of the prophecy, saying something along the lines of ‘Your greatest fear, dumbass,’ Raven might have run off.

Instead she had stayed, with the loving support of her partner Tai, Yang’s father, and their mutual friend Summer. Over time, Summer had become like an aunt to Yang and grew closer to Raven as they raised the child. Eventually, over one too many glasses of wine, they had kissed. In the resulting shock Summer confessed that she loved both Raven and Tai, and the pain of choosing one or the other was far too much for her to handle. She, too, might have run had Raven and Tai not offered to let her stay in an polyamorous relationship. Summer recounted the events with a smile now, relating her prophecy as ‘She will kiss you, and he will follow’. Prophecies always seemed so clear in retrospect. Tai’s was the easiest, though he had been too unsure of himself to act on it, ‘The bird nests, the flower blooms’. Looking back on it, he often talked about how foolish he had been to not realize that his two friends, Raven Branwen and Summer Rose, were the two specified in his prophecy. 

Now, years later, Yang was left to grumble and stew in resentment as she tried to parse out her own prophecy. She had long since given up actively searching, after all that would only raise the chance of a mistaken romance with someone who wasn’t her soulmate. It was just perfect that her parents would have their soulmates all but fall into their laps while she was here, in a room full of other people, with no idea how to-

“Oh, gods,” Yang breathed out, her eyes locking onto a woman on the far side of the room. She was absolutely gorgeous, with long black hair, piercing amber eyes, cat ears on her head, and, most importantly of all, an impossibly beautiful smile. Admittedly she was using it now to get someone to leave her alone, but it was still a smile and it had been the first thing that Yang noticed about her. That had to be what the prophecy meant, right?

Before Yang could even comprehend what was happening, she was moving across the room, pushing through couples and carefully stepping over weeping peers. Whoever the woman had been talking to had moved off, obviously not finding who they were looking for. As Yang approached the woman, she looked up from her book and smiled again and Yang found her breath caught in her throat.

“Uh...h-hi. I’m Yang,” Yang stammered and the woman’s smile grew slightly at her obvious embarrassment.

“I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for,” the woman said and Yang fought to keep her face from falling. She had been so sure!

“Why not?” Yang asked and the woman shrugged.

“My prophecy is a bit...impossible. I don’t really think that I’m gonna find who I’m looking for here.”

“Oh, me neither,” Yang said quickly. Even if this woman wasn’t who she was predestined to spend her life with, Yang wouldn’t mind getting to know her. Maybe she could help the woman find their own soulmate as well as become her friend. “I was just wondering if you wanted to...get some food or something? I haven’t eaten and you looked lonely. I don’t want to pressure you or anything!” Yang added hurriedly, holding up her hands in a peacemaking gesture. 

The woman laughed and stood, stretching her hands high above her head and snapping her book closed. “You’re willing to give up on finding your soulmate to take a stranger to lunch?”

“I-” Yang started to say, cutting off saying that she thought that the woman in front of her was, potentially, her soulmate, “Mine’s really nonspecific. I have as much chance of finding her here as anywhere else.”

“Her, huh?” the woman asked with a playful flick of her ears and Yang nodded. “At least you have a gender to go off. Gods, mine is a mess.”

“Do you mind telling me?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh,” Yang said, shrinking back a step.

The woman sighed and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, it’s just...you know how they say if you tell someone, it’s less likely to happen?” Yang nodded with a rueful smile. She knew that fear all too well. “We got off on the wrong foot. I’m Blake.” The woman extended a hand and Yang shook it firmly, like her mothers had taught her. “Do you know anywhere to eat around here?”

“Not really. I just came out to Vale for this,” Yang gestured as the gigantic mingling crowd behind her.

“A bit underwhelming, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a bit. C’mon, I’m sure we can find something.”

Soon they were having a lovely lunch and talking about anything other than prophecies. Yang talked about growing up on Patch, the small farm that her family ran, what it was like to have a younger sister, as Blake was an only child, and tactfully skipped over explaining how her parents had all fulfilled their prophecies. Blake talked about her life in Kuo Kuana, exploring the beaches with her friends, baking bread with her father, and learning how to swim from her mother. It was a fantastic conversation and Yang couldn’t remember finding it so easy to talk with anyone else before. 

Of course, like all good things, it came to an end. As they stood to leave, Yang blurted out,

“Can I have your number?”

Blake smiled softly and cocked her head to the side in thought. After a long moment, she nodded and said, “Sure.”

After the two women exchanged their numbers, Yang said, “Maybe next time we’re in Vale, we can do this again.”

“I’d like that,” Blake said, “It’s nice to talk with someone without it all being about prophecies.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Yang said with a smile and Blake laughed. They said their goodbyes and soon Yang was on a bus back to Patch. She let out a sigh in the seat and muttered, “Grapes.” 

It would have been unfair, cruel almost, to try and convince Blake that she was the focus of Yang’s prophecy. Blake had been so certain that she was going to wind up alone forever that Yang had almost convinced herself that she couldn’t be the person her prophecy meant. Of course, she knew that her family would want all the details. She would tell them everything, except that she had considered the fact that Blake could be her soulmate. That would only encourage them to hound her about calling Blake and meeting up with her again. Yang had a feeling that calling her like that would only chase the wonderful woman away. Her budding friendship with Blake was far too precious for her to risk that.

It was six long months before they met up again. Blake had cut her hair into an adorable bob, which only highlighted her smile more, and Yang was now sporting a nasty scar on her right arm from a boating accident. 

“That looks awful,” Blake said as soon as the two met, this time sitting outside a small restaurant in downtown Vale, “What happened?”

Normally, Yang didn’t like people pointing out her scar but with Blake it was okay. Yang knew that Blake didn’t mean any harm in asking. “I was out with Ruby and some friends on dad’s boat. The outboard started acting up, so I checked it out and...well..”

“Gods, Yang,” Blake gasped, “Are you-Well, I mean, you’re okay obviously, but still.”

“Yeah, it was rough for a while, but it healed up. I can’t bend my arm all the way anymore, but at least I still have it, you know?” Yang said with a shrug.

“I guess,” Blake said with a grimace and Yang laughed.

“Don’t worry about it. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Still haven’t...you know.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I found a job in Vale,” Blake said, shifting the conversation away from prophecies as soon as the topic came up. “I’m the secretary for a construction company.”

“Sounds exciting,” Yang said and Blake groaned, leaning onto her hands.

“It’s the worst job I’ve ever had,” she said, her cat ears drooping as she said it, “but if I’m living here at least we can meet up more.”

“Oh!” Yang said, trying to keep the excitement from her voice. She hadn’t even dared to think about mentioning that, but now that it had been brought up she wanted to do nothing more than plan out future days with Blake. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Blake’s ears perked up and a small smile of relief spread across her face. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see me again.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Yang said softly and Blake nodded in agreement, her smile shifting from relieved to excited. “So...when are you free? Patch is only an hour or so away, I can swing by pretty much any evening.”

“I get out of work at five. Maybe we can meet up once a week?” Blake said and Yang agreed immediately. The idea of spending any amount of time with Blake was an attractive one, and a set schedule was more than Yang had ever hoped for.

While they had at first met up once a week, it soon became twice a week and then three times a week. It was good that the farm was doing well, or else the gas bills alone would have left Yang broke. Between the farm and her second job as a landscaper, it was manageable. No matter how tired she was at the end of the day she always had the energy to spend time with Blake. The two had become fast friends, griping about work on the regular and groaning about their prophecies every time that someone they knew found their soulmate. 

Yang had all but given up the idea that Blake was her destined soulmate. That was something that you were supposed to  _ know _ and at this point Yang didn’t feel like pressing the issue. Besides, prophecy or not, she could feel the throes of love deep within her heart. It was in how her heart fluttered whenever Blake laughed, how beautiful she looked when the shattered moon reflected in her amber eyes, how she always knew just what to say to get Yang to smile. Regardless of some ancient tradition, Yang wanted to be with Blake. No other smile mattered once she realized that. 

Prophecies be damned, Yang was in love with Blake. She knew it as surely as she knew the earth turned and the sun rose in the east, it was natural, a fact of life.

That New Year’s Eve, Yang and Blake spent it in Blake’s apartment in Vale. Summer had shot Yang a knowing look as she left for Vale the day before, which Yang had promptly ignored. Summer had found her soulmates, both of them, and she couldn’t possibly understand that Yang loved someone who probably had nothing to do with her prophecy. 

“So what is your prophecy?” Blake asked, her words slurring a bit as the two had been passing a bottle of mead back and forth all night. 

Yang smirked and shook her head at her lightweight companion. Normally, she would have agreed with Blake’s advice and not said it for fear of it not coming to pass, but at this point she was too drunk on both mead and love to care. “You will know her by her smile.”

“Oh. That’s obnoxiously vague,” Blake grumbled and Yang laughed.

“You’re telling me.” She bit back asking about Blake’s prophecy. The woman had remained steadfast in refusing to share it, and Yang saw no reason for that to change. Instead, she asked, “You wanna dance?”

“I can’t dance,” Blake said, almost ashamed of the words as they left her mouth. Yang stood and held out a hand with a soft smile.

“I’ll teach you.” After a long moment, Blake smiled and let Yang drag her to her feet.

They danced the night away to bad pop music and worse country, drinking from the mead bottle as the evening wore on. There were parties all around as they danced in their pajamas and socks, the walls shaking with thumping music and pounding feet. 

As the countdown began, an entire city screamed out the numbers. Blake and Yang found themselves with their arms wrapped around one another as they watched the countdown on TV.

“Three! Two! One! Happy new year!” they shouted and Yang pumped a fist in the air at the victory of surviving another trip around the sun. Suddenly she found herself being pulled down and Blake pressed their lips together. Yang melted into the kiss and returned it gladly, her heart soaring at the thought that Blake felt the same way she did. 

Immediately Blake shoved herself away, hands flying to her lips and an expression of pure shock and terror etched on her face. “I-I’m so sorry!” she cried out, “I didn’t-I mean-I shouldn’t have done that! I’m so sorry!”

Yang reached out and brushed her fingers on her lips, all sense of being drunk vanishing in the shock of what had just happened. “Oh.”

“I-I’m gonna go for a walk or something,” Blake stammered and made to walk past Yang when the blonde said,

“You wanna do that again?”

“What?”

“You kissed me.”

“Yeah, and I’m really sorry about it,” Blake said, tears welling up in her eyes, “Gods, it was stupid of me to kiss you. You’ve got a great prophecy and I thought-I wanted-I’m not your soulmate, Yang. I can’t kiss you. I can’t-I can’t love you.”

Yang smiled softly and gently reached out a hand towards Blake. “But you do, right?”

“Yeah,” Blake choked out, her tears flowing freely down her face.

“Well...I love you too,” Yang admitted and suddenly she felt the weight of expectation lift from her shoulders, leaving her light and happy. “Fuck the prophecies. I want to be with you, Blake.”

“But...but her smile…”

“I don’t care. Your smile is the only one that matters to me.”

Blake let out a strangled cry and collapsed into Yang’s arms. They held each other as they collapsed to the bed, Blake sobbing into Yang’s chest. The night wheeled by overhead and slowly, Blake stopped crying. Yang declared her love for Blake a dozen times over, prophecies long forgotten. Every time that Yang said it, Blake snuggled closer until there was no more space between them. Eventually Blake’s sobs turned into soft snores and Yang smiled down at her, throwing a blanket over both of them. 

“Night, Blake,” Yang said softly, placing a soft kiss on Blake’s head. Her cat ears flicked in her sleep and she mumbled Yang’s name. With another soft smile, Yang drifted off to sleep.

“So you really meant that? Fuck the prophecies?”

“I really meant it.”

“Yang-” Blake cut herself off, stopping an explanation that saying ‘Fuck the propehcies’ wasn’t really how it worked. In the morning light, the declaration didn’t have the same power it held in the wake of their kiss. The prophecies were every bit as real and powerful as any other act of nature. Instead of saying all that, Blake just snuggled closer and said, “Okay.”

Yang smiled and leaned forwards, catching Blake’s lips on her own. Now that they were both fully sober and awake, their kiss was much more tender, much more meaningful. It spoke of all the little things that Yang wanted to say to Blake, all the things that she couldn’t find words for. She could feel the same tumult of love from Blake, the sweeping adoration that poured from the woman like water from a shattered dam.

Yang’s phone went off and she groaned in annoyance, snatching it off the bedside table. She glanced at who was calling her and rolled her eyes in exasperation before answering. “Hi mom.”

“Morning Yang,” Raven said curtly, “When are you coming home?”

“Eventually? I told you I’d be gone for a few days,” Yang said, smiling apologetically at Blake, who shrugged. They were snuggled closely enough that Blake had to be able to hear the conversation. She was flattening her ears on top of her head, trying to politely block out the noise if Yang had to guess.

“Well, your father needs you to take another look at the tractor. He broke something again,” Raven said and Yang sighed heavily. At least Raven wasn’t asking about her prophecy again, sometimes Yang swore that was all that her mother knew how to talk about. “Summer took a look at it, but she didn’t want to mess with your tools.”

“Tell her I appreciate that,” Yang said and Raven snorted derisively.

“Come home and tell her yourself.”

“I’ll be home soon,” Yang said in exasperation, “Gods, you spent weeks away from home when you were my age.”

“That’s different,” Raven said with just a hint of embarrassment, then let out a sigh. “Just be careful, okay? I worry about you.” 

“I will be. Thanks mom,” Yang said softly and suddenly all trace of embarrassment was gone from Raven’s voice.

“Let me know when you’re on the way home.”

“I will.”

“Okay, my little dragon. Talk to you later. Say hello to Blake for me.” Before Yang could even say goodbye, Raven had hung up. She smiled ruefully and rolled over to see Blake.

“Raven says hel-What is it?” Yang asked, worry shooting through her body. Blake was staring at her in wonder and trepidation, a strangled twinge of hope on the edges of her gaze.

“Why did your mom call you that? Little dragon?” Blake asked softly, so softly that Yang almost missed it.

“Oh, that’s what my name means: sunny little dragon,” Yang replied and Blake gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “Why? Blake, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Blake replied quickly, and suddenly Yang could see a smile spreading across her face, “It’s just...that’s my prophecy.”

“What is?”

“Where the dragon rests, so too shall you,” Blake said and Yang furrowed her brow in confusion. Blake reached up and cupped her cheek. “It’s  _ you _ , Yang. You’re the dragon.”

Now it was Yang’s turn to gasp and she couldn’t keep the smile from spreading across her face. “I knew it was you.”

“What happened to Ms. Fuck the Prophecies?” Blake teased and Yang kissed her as tenderly as she could.

“I’d still say that, even if I wasn’t your dragon,” Yang mumbled into Blake’s lips, “But gods, your smile...That’s the first thing I noticed about you.”

The two kissed again, and then again. They spent most of that morning kissing. Blake came back to Patch with Yang the next day, the two of them telling Yang’s overjoyed family what they had figured out. Blake’s parents were equally ecstatic, and had bought the pair plane tickets to Kuo Kuana before anyone could protest.

Honestly, it all seemed like a bit much to Yang. She had Blake, the love of her life with or without the prophecies. That was what really mattered.

She was going to spend the rest of her life with the most wonderful woman in the world, and she couldn’t have been happier about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really enjoyed doing Bumbleby Week! So glad that everyone's enjoyed the stuff I've been posting.   
> Might start putting up one shots every so often in the middle of the week, if I have them laying around.   
> Hope you enjoy this last entry for Bumbleby Week 2020!


End file.
